


Not In The Middle Of Dinner

by Fullmetalgeassvampire



Category: Karneval (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Begging, Dirty Talk, Embarrassment, Gay, Gay Sex, Handcuffs, Hirato takes his glasses off, Hot Sex, I have no regrets, Just one huge, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Hand Jobs, Punishment, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, enormous, oh my, unforgivably dirty smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 18:25:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10645500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fullmetalgeassvampire/pseuds/Fullmetalgeassvampire
Summary: In which Tsukitachi jerks Hirato off in the middle of a group dinner, and subsequently learns why it is both an awful and awesome idea.





	Not In The Middle Of Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Easter everyone (( ^ * ^ )) I really should have written a proper Easter themed fic, but I had this idea pop into my head - during the family celebration, embarrassingly enough - and I just had to write it. Can't believe I haven't done a Hirato/Tsukitachi until now, and this site definitely needs more of them. Hope you all enjoy!! Comments always appreciated, haven't written smut for years.

Hirato bit his lip to stifle a moan, a trembling hand gripping his dinner fork much tighter than usual as Tsukitachi continued to rub his shaft inside his boxers. The two were seated side by side, close enough for their legs to touch, and close enough for everybody else not to notice that Tsukitachi's hand was stretched across into Hirato's lap under the table. He glanced over at the devilishly handsome, red haired bastard, giving him a look that very clearly said "It's about to get messy, you seriously have to stop now", only to receive a wink, an evil grin, and an increase of speed in return. Again, Hirato's teeth sunk into his bottom lip as a groan of pleasure and annoyance threatened to slip out; this would surely have silenced all conversation at the dinner table, and would not have been discreet enough to be mistaken for a cough. 

To the rest of the table Hirato appeared his usual perfectly turned out, handsome, composed self, but Tsukitachi could hear his quiet, ragged breathing and quickened heartbeat and knew what he was doing was working. The large dining room suddenly seemed to have become very hot and stuffy, and Hirato struggled to withhold the beads of perspiration that were desperately close to forming on his forehead. The sheer effort it was taking not to simultaneously climax and punch Tsukitachi in the throat was exhausting. He slumped back in his chair and discarded his cutlery as elegantly as he could manage - given the current situation - and gasped as Tsukitachi's hand slid up and down his member, rubbing his thumb across the tip and swirling around in the fountain of liquid arousal. The sensations were becoming too much, the soft, skilled fingers that knew exactly how and where to touch him were sending his head spinning, and all he wanted to do was bend the man over the table and fuck him into oblivion. 

"Oh, my god.." Hirato whimpered, a white knuckled hand gripping the edge of his seat as his thighs began to shake, abs clenched tight to restrain his desperate attempts at orgasm. 

"What was that, Captain?" the infuriating doctor with the pink hair had spoken up. Hirato cursed him, very aware of the red tinge to his normally pristine complexion. 

"It was nothing, Dr. Akari, I was merely expressing my shock at the story Yogi was telling." Tsukitachi elbowed him, conveying that he was impressed with how calmly Hirato had responded. He also increased the speed of his strokes, smirking as Hirato visibly flinched and shuddered. 

"What story?!" Yogi exclaimed, gulping in fear as the doctor's piercing pink eyes fixed upon him. "I haven't said anything for ages."

Despite himself, Hirato chuckled as the sounds of poor, clueless Yogi being interrogated by his worst nightmare began to fade into the distance. They were proving to be exactly the distraction he had needed, as he was now finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pulsing erection Tsukitachi was encouraging, and just how close he was to coming completely undone in front of everyone he had to uphold an image in front of. The redhead shimmied his chair even closed to the captain's, about to try and snake his other hand in through his open fly, which he knew he could easily use to make the other lose all control in a heartbeat. Wise to his move however, Hirato leapt to his feet, almost knocking Tsukitachi onto the floor with the urgency. Thankful for the long coat that hid the real reason for his indecent departure, Hirato excused himself for the bathroom and swiftly walked away. The less polite Tsukitachi simply stood up and followed him, grinning at the confused and disapproving muttering they had left behind. 

They had barely made it into the bathroom before Hirato growled like a wild dog and slammed Tsukitachi face first into the closed door, so roughly undoing his jeans that he broke the zip. Hirato was highly flustered, sloppily executing a stunt he would normally have pulled off flawlessly, and Tsukitachi groaned with wanton anticipation as he kicked off his jeans, knowing he was in for a wild ride. 

He hitched one leg up onto the rim of the basin, knocking the latch half bolted with his knee as Hirato seized a handful of his shirt, pressing him even harder into the cold door. The sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor made Tsukitachi stuff his mouth with his sleeve, suppressing a lustful moan as he felt the other man sliding into him. No preparation was needed, they were both more than ready. 

Hirato's hands groped Tsukitachi's chest with no restraint, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt until his fingers could explore the hot, heaving skin they craved. Tsukitachi hissed as Hirato pinched and twisted a nipple, beginning to thrust in and out at a torturously slow pace.

"What on earth are you doing? I know you're desperate, so just get on with it," Tsukitachi breathed, trying to turn around to look his partner in the eye. Hirato slammed him back against the door, thrusting in hard enough to elicit a loud cry of "Fuck!" from the receiving end. 

"I'm going to make you beg for it," Hirato said, words slurred from arousal, his lips brushing Tsukitachi's ear as he spoke. "I'm going to punish you for every single time you almost made me come out there, and then I'm going to make you come twice as many times."

"So, a lot then?" Tsukitachi grinned, trying to move his hips for some friction but finding them held fast. 

"You have no idea."

Tsukitachi moaned in frustration and reached down, taking his length into both of his hands and moving them in tandem, clenching around the cock buried in him from the jolt of pleasure he gave himself. 

"That's naughty, you'll do as I say and wait," Hirato growled, swiftly pinning both of Tsukitachi's hands above his head in a sweaty grip. "You're going to beg for me. You're going to want it so much it hurts."

"The longer we take, the longer we're absent from dinner," Tsukitachi managed to splutter out, his painfully erect member dripping down his shaking legs. 

"Table manners are currently the last thing on my mind," replied Hirato.

He slid his cock against Tsukitachi's warm insides at such a maddeningly slow pace it made him curse aloud, accidentally-on-purpose knocking his glasses and hat off as he wrestled his shirt off his shoulders, and Hirato discarded his coat onto the floor. He reached down and grasped Tsukitachi's length in one hand, rubbing up and down in time with the pityful thrusts. Tsukitachi moaned and began to rock back to meet Hirato's slow motion thrusts, their hips touching together momentarily before sliding apart. Before he knew what was happening, Hirato had taken the tie from around his neck and bound Tsukitachi's hands tightly with it, tying them to the hook on the back of the bathroom door, making the latter gasp and wriggle in excitement. They had never tried using restraints before. Now he no longer had to worry about keeping the other's hands still, Hirato was free to once more explore his body as he pleased. He decided to reach down and squeeze Tsukitachi's ass hard, just how he liked it, gaining himself a little of the begging he desired.

"Ah, Hirato, more already!"

"That's not good enough, not nearly good enough," Hirato whispered, nipping down his neck. "Beg for me. Now."

"You bastard, that's my line," Tsukitachi moaned, fighting against the tie around his wrists. "You're supposed to be the one begging for me."

"Yeah, your cunning little plan backfired on you, didn't it?" Hirato teased, his hands sliding a little faster on Tsukitachi's aching length. "This'll serve you right for teasing me in public. Now beg."

Tsukitachi let out one of the loudest moans of longing of his life, surprised at just how much he was enjoying being strapped to the back of a door, one leg awkwardly up in the sink, his face pressed hard into the wood, with the captain's cock up his ass. He grinned, shaking his hair out of his sweaty face. 

"Alright. Alright you win, you filthy dog. Now go ahead and fuck me, just fuck me until neither of us can stand. Please."

With no warning whatsoever Hirato began to thrust into him at a ravenous pace, sure the rapid slapping of skin on skin would drown out even Tsukitachi's ecstatic cries. Neither of them even gave a second thought to how close the bathroom was to the dining room.

"Fuck, fucking hell, don't stop! Don't you dare stop!"

"What's the word?" Hirato whispered, leaning in to suck hard on the perfect spot on Tsukitachi's back, pulling away to leave a spectacular hickey. 

"Damn you.. Please, do it harder!"

Hirato obliged, feeling raw animal instincts taking him over as wave after wave of scalding hot satisfaction and spine tingling pleasure crashed over him. Tsukitachi moaned and his knees gave way, sending him crashing face first into the door, with only the tie round his hands and Hirato's strong arms keeping him up as the unrelenting pace continued. Drunk on sex, Hirato ran a hand through his dark hair, sweeping it out of his eyes in such an uncharacteristic gesture, it almost drove Tsukitachi mad. Straining his neck to look over his shoulder, he was overcome with a desperate lust, despite the fact that the object of his desire was already pounding into him like a jackhammer. Hirato looked sexier than he ever had before, his eyes screwed closed without glasses to hide them, wearing nothing but a half buttoned shirt that stuck to his broad shoulders, both hands sturdily holding the other man up, pulling him even closer into their vortex of pleasure. 

Engulfed in ecstasy, Tsukitachi's orgasm hit him before he even had time to shout, and as he tightened around Hirato's member, they both toppled off the edge of sanity together. Tsukitachi couldn't feel his hands, and he had two fine bruises developing where Hirato had been gripping his hips. Hirato was dizzy and disoriented, from both the impact of his climax and the fact that his glasses lay somewhere on the bathroom floor. It took him a minute before he realised he was no longer holding Tsukitachi, and remembered he had left him hanging from the hook on the door. Too late, however, as the hook had already been torn off as Tsukitachi fell to the floor, sticky from head to toe from both their release.

"Well that's left a spectacular dent in the paint," Hirato mumbled, crouching down to untie his exhausted lover. 

The two slumped against one another on the floor, Tsukitachi stumbled upon the discarded glasses and put them clumsily back on Hirato's face. Ordinarily he would have complained at being poked hard in the eye, but he was far too tired to have even noticed it. Thinking back to his previous promise of 'twice the orgasms he had had to fight down' Hirato groaned, wondering if he had the strength to even get up and walk back to the dinner table. Alas, almost as if he had read the other's mind, Tsukitachi ran a hand through Hirato's damp hair, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"I'm spent too, babe. But you so owe me for another night. We are definitely doing that again! Just not in the middle of dinner, next time."


End file.
